


The Contract

by brittlestars



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Foggy is tired of these fools but also he loves them, Gen, He would just love them more if they didn't set his office on fire accidentally once a week, Team Red
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:00:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brittlestars/pseuds/brittlestars
Summary: Foggy tries to create a contract for controlling the damage of Team Red practical jokes. It doesn't go so well.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 53
Collections: Daredevil Bingo





	The Contract

"This has gotten totally out of hand," Foggy said, dumping the last of the ashes in the trash bag before cinching it shut, dropping it in Wade's hands, and pointing out the office door. Wade gave a jaunty one-handed salute and walked out, humming "We didn't start the fire" by Billy Joel. 

Foggy brushed his hands together, frowning when the gesture smeared his skin with soot. "Now, I'm drawing up a contract and you three are signing it. I want to have an exhibit A to point at when yelling next time." 

"Oh, yea," said Peter, "Contracts are totally a thing lawyers do."

Foggy couldn't stop himself from smiling at Peter. "They 'totally' are, my friend." 

Matt opened his mouth, but Foggy patted him on the cheek while walking by. "Not now, gorgeous, the adult is working."

Matt's jaw shut with a click and he furrowed his eyebrows but trailed behind Foggy without a word. If there was a smudge of soot on his cheek, Foggy wasn't going to mention it. 

"Have a seat, Peter," Foggy gestured from behind his desk as they entered his office. 

Peter, noting there was only one unoccupied chair, leapt lithely onto the wall, sticking there.

Foggy paused a second, then nodded. "Not what I meant, but whatever makes you comfortable." 

"I'm good," said Peter, shifting slightly.

"Alright, then." 

"Thank you," Peter said. 

Foggy waved a hand dismissively. "I'm happy to write the contract if it means I can come in to work for five consecutive working days without my office being on literal fire." 

"That wasn't your office," Peter whined. Foggy leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, staring at Peter on the wall. 

"...It was," Peter gulped, "It was the conference room?"

"My name is on the door. Ergo, it's part of my office."

Matt took this moment to sit in the empty chair, rolling his cane between his fingers. "I'm sure one of your cousins will have the conference room fixed up again in no time, Foggy." 

"At least somebody benefits from the inanity, because you three are terrible for my blood pressure." 

At this, Matt frowned, reaching out a hand. "Fogs..." 

"Don't worry about it, Matt. You know I'm at my best when I'm distracted by work. So let me get going on this and maybe it'll save me the oncoming ulcer."

Peter whispered something that sounded suspiciously like "bacon limburger" and Matt chuckled. Foggy cast a narrow-eyed glance between them but then shook his head. Not worth asking. 

After wiggling the mouse to wake up his computer, Foggy opened a new document. "Okay," he said, cracking his knuckles and shrugging his shoulders while staring at the blinking cursor. After a moment, he began hunting and pecking at the keyboard. "Team Red Practical Joke Contract... Draft one... Entering the date...," he narrated under his breath in deference to Matt. "I think I'll organize this into a numbered hierarchy for if we need to address grievances." 

" **When** we need to address grievances," Peter supplied. 

Matt reached up to set a heavy hand on Peter's shoulder and squeezed until his knuckles were white. Peter didn't seem to notice. 

Matt chimed in, "Maybe we should have categories of offense: harmless practical joke all the way up to 'absolutely do not do this thing ever I will end you.'" 

"That makes sense," said Peter. 

Foggy nodded, already typing. "Categories. I can work with that. So a harmless offense is like... switching salt for the sugar." 

"Pointless to try and pull on me," Matt was smug. 

"Yea, yea, you're so amazing," Foggy said flatly without looking up. "How would we ever bake without you?"

Peter grinned. "Aunt May switched the sugar and the salt once on accident. I didn't even need to set it up as a prank." Then his face soured. "Those cookies were terrible." 

Matt cringed. "You actually ate them?" 

Peter's voice was small. "But... cookies." 

"Let's focus, gentlemen," Foggy interrupted. "How about you give me an example of the 'absolute worst' end of the spectrum?" 

"Outing public identity," Peter supplied immediately, suddenly sober. 

Matt nodded. 

Foggy resumed typing. "Outing public identity, noted. I suppose on the same level would be 'grievous bodily harm.'" 

"What? No!" Peter balked.

"Absolutely not," said Matt at the same time.

Foggy paused typing to look at them with an eyebrow lifted.

"They're not even close," insisted Peter.

Matt nodded.

Foggy put a hand on his face. 

"I get grievously wounded all the time," Peter clarified. As if that helped. 

Matt nodded.

Foggy slid his hand down face in despair. 

"Also," Peter mused, "what would even constitute 'grievous bodily harm' for Wade?" 

"Hrmmm," Matt rumbled, "That's a good question." 

Foggy lifted his second hand and placed it on top of the first.

**Author's Note:**

> Fills my Daredevil bingo square "mediation."


End file.
